


I’ve Got All My Stars Aligned

by soonuwus



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Denial of Feelings, Drinking, Hook-Up, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Linear Narrative, Partying, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Soonwoo both struggle vaguely with relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-05 01:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16358132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soonuwus/pseuds/soonuwus
Summary: Soonyoung falls into a relationship with Wonwoo just as easily as he falls out of it, and all he has left is the fluorescent flash of their brightest memories, or so he thinks.





	I’ve Got All My Stars Aligned

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, I have always wanted to do a music prompt and since Lorde is one of my favorite artists of modern times this just seemed like the BEST opportunity! Music prompts can be a struggle for me because I find it hard to convey how a song inspires me or makes me feel in words, but I tried my best with this one and I think I was fairly successful!
> 
> A big thanks to all my friends who helped me by reading through this, you know who you are!
> 
> Also, I used some other songs for inspiration and mentioned some in the fic, so I've compiled a spotify playlist. Here's the link!  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/12141719405/playlist/6timuMFk5iG0cHw1b1likv?si=UfSlM8ACSMOVe57locHP8w
> 
> Enjoy!

Soonyoung stumbled into yet another room of the sprawling house, bottle of champagne in hand. The mysterious dwelling (“ _ Is it a frat-house?”  _ Soonyoung asks his drunken self. _ “It must be. No college student could afford to live in such a splendorous palace” _ ) was beginning to feel like a labyrinth to the inebriated Soonyoung. He was brought here by Junhui’s ever-so intriguing beck and call.

“Soon, where are you?” Junhui crooned into the phone over a chorus of shouts in the background.

“I’m at home... studying,” Soonyoung responded begrudgingly, thumbing through his textbook as his head filled to the brim with envy. He wondered where Junhui was, who he could have been fraternizing with at such an ungodly hour on a tuesday night.

“Why,” he finally asked, “Where are you?”

Junhui knew by the tone of Soonyoung’s voice that he was searching for every excuse to drop his  _ Astronomy I  _ textbook and pick up a bottle of liquor. Soonyoung was out his front door before Jun could finish relaying the address of the party. 

Minghao showed up around the same time as Soonyoung. He was doublefisting bottles of champagne ciroc. He crossed Soonyoung’s path on the porch with a friendly smile.

“Ahh, Soon,” he called. Soonyoung was elated to see a familiar face.

“I got this for ya!” Minghao called, holding up the bottle of middle-shelf champagne.

So, here it was, that Soonyoung found himself: one bottle of knock-off California champagne in hand, a stomach full of nerves he struggled to unfurl, and his ever-present energy. You would expect that the drink would slow his roll, but liquor only served to amplify the sound of his voice, the speed of his reactions. He was well known for his boisterous attitude, but twice as well known for his drunken exuberance.

He slurred and stumbled through conversation after conversation, struggling to gather his thoughts over the  _ slosh _ of his champagne and the rhythmic pounding of the music. Every labyrinth has its trolls, goblins, and possibly even a treasure trove somewhere at its heart. He had encountered several ghoulish figures by now. Among them were an utterly shit-faced Seungcheol who challenged him to a wrestling match when he was far too sober, and a friend of his sister’s who couldn’t help but shoot him a dirty look that seemed to let him know Minkyung would be hearing about this. 

Soonyoung felt like he had been to six rooms at this point… Or was it seven? He pondered this, lifting the golden bottle of bubbly up to meet his gaze. He discovered that it was about half empty.  _ Shit…  _ he thought,  _ there goes my astronomy final. _

Soonyoung had become distracted by the way the bubbles in the bottle were floating to the top, condensing on its head and escaping into the air. Amid all the thoughts of his final tomorrow, Soonyoung was silently wishing he could vaporize just like a little bubble in his champagne.

He had just decided he was ready for one more swig when a pair of dark, hooded eyes caught his gaze. Actually, those eyes were gazing right through the sheer golden bottle at his. Soonyoung realized the owner of the dark eyes could tell he was confused. The other boy grabbed his hand and moved the bottle out of his way. Soonyoung could clearly see the face before him now: a pair of dark brown eyes, proud eyebrows masked by shaggy black bangs, a smug smile, and a strong nose that was ever-so-slightly scrunched at the sight of Soonyoung’s obvious distress (Minkyung  _ did  _ always say that he was an open book). Soonyoung realized now that the gaze that met his own belonged to none other than Jeon Wonwoo.

It was only natural that the pair found themselves perched upon the nearest victorian couch ( _ goddamn,  _ Soonyoung remarked to Wonwoo as they sat,  _ this is one fancyass frat-house!)  _ reminiscing some of their most embarrassing middle school moments. Soonyoung had known Wonwoo since sixth grade, and although they rarely talked now, they never passed up a chance to catch up when the opportunity presented itself. They chattered about old times over the soft din of synths and dreamy, monotone vocals that echoed from another room.

As Wonwoo spent eons cringing over his emo-boy middle school haircut, Soonyoung lost himself in the sound of his voice, which wasn’t now at least two octaves deeper than it was back then. Yes, Wonwoo was still a beanpole, all skin and bones, but Soonyoung found him to be quite handsome even though he looked… pretty similar to the way he did in middle school. Maybe that was part of his charm. Soonyoung thought that even if one did not know Wonwoo, his smile and laugh had the power to evoke the faintest hint of nostalgia in just about anyone.

“God… I don’t know how I could even see with that haircut. I’m surprised my right eye still works after I deprived it of light for years... And the amount of hairspray I used….” Wonwoo chuckled as he trailed off.

“You don’t look that different from how you did back then, actually…” Soonyoung teased, still a little tipsy as he flicked Wonwoo’s messy bangs out of his eyes. Wonwoo pushed his hand away and feigned a punching motion at the other boy. The two burst out in laughter as though they were just two schoolboys again, momentarily freed from the seemingly never-ending constraints of class schedules and thesis papers.

Eventually, they had moved onto commiserating about their courseloads and oncoming final exams. Soonyoung was just in the middle of lamenting the inevitable loss of his C average in Astronomy when someone passed Wonwoo a bong. He accepted it without protest, thumbing the lighter in his right hand and holding the device in his left. He took a hit. He took a second. He looked up to find Soonyoung staring at him, mouth slightly ajar.

“You want?” Wonwoo asked, a sweet smile spreading across his normally  _ very  _ sharp features. Maybe he was already kinda stoned and that’s what filled the usually deadpan boy with a case of the giggles, or maybe Soonyoung was still  _ really  _ drunk, and that’s why everything seemed to move in slow motion. He watched Wonwoo exhale the smoke. He watched him chuckle as he huffed the rest out. He watched Wonwoo hand the bong to him and only now did the other boy’s actions seem to catch up with his words.

Soonyoung held the bong in hand and lowered his lips to the pipe. He struggled to light it, Wonwoo chuckling his  _ annoyingly  _ cute little laugh at him. Soonyoung was beginning to think he had found the treasure at the center of his frat-house labyrinth. 

“Here,” Wonwoo offered, now moving to sit cross-legged up on the couch, facing Soonyoung. He scooted closer to him and grabbed the lighter. Wonwoo lit the bowl and Soonyoung inhaled. He exhaled. He took a second hit. He took a third, his eyes finally moving to meet Wonwoo’s.

And there, as he sat upright and exhaled, puffing out smoke slowly as he tried to pull as much out of that hit as he could, Soonyoung saw the same gaze that met his eyes earlier that night. He saw Wonwoo’s ardent, hungry gaze shrouded in smoke. He saw a smile spread across Wonwoo’s face as that very gaze drifted downward to rest on Soonyoung’s lips. Finally, he saw Wonwoo’s tongue dip out to lick his lower lip. 

The synth-pop echoling from another room had calmed to a slow din, a ballad with a tentative synth riff and monotone vocals filling the air. Soonyoung felt overwhelmed by the noise due to his heightened state but managed to catch a couple lines:

_ I got this picture of us kissin' in my head _

_ And all I hear is the last thing that you said _

Soonyoung, now stoned as a sinner, suddenly realized what he was previously too drunk to notice: that Wonwoo had been staring at him like this the entire night.

-

Soonyoung’s gaze had not left Wonwoo since they got into his car. As Wonwoo focused on driving, Soonyoung spent eons dragging his gaze along all of the lines of Wonwoo’s body, smiling to himself and hardly aware that he was staring.

“What are you smiling at?” Wonwoo asked, glancing Soonyoung once over with a smug smile before returning his focus to the road.

“Nothing,” Soonyoung smiled even bigger, painfully aware of the way his ears were heating up as his cheeks consumed his eyes in a grin. It was not uncommon for Soonyoung to feel blissed out when he was with Wonwoo, especially after they had just had sex. He and his close friend had been hooking up often for a month or so now, and it was becoming hard for Soonyoung to ignore the way the blood rushed to his head and his whole body tingled when Wonwoo looked at him  _ like that. _

A rolling electronica melody slowly faded in on Wonwoo’s car stereo. Soonyoung, searching for a way to distract himself from the much-too handsome man sitting beside him, cranked the volume up. The pair sang along to the song, distant enough to be nostalgic but still familiar.

When the chorus kicked in, soonyoung rolled the window down and turned to lean out, stretching his arms to meet the moist Summer breeze. He leaned out the window as far as he could and let out a triumphant wail. Upon returning to the car Soonyoung found that Wonwoo was laughing that scrunchy-nosed cackle that he loved so dearly. The pair shared laughter as they sang along, Soonyoung once again unable to take his eyes off of the man beside him.

Soonyoung fidgeted with his hands and tried to pull his gaze away from Wonwoo as he turned down the side street.

“I thought we were going to eat,” Soonyoung said, coy with a hint of disbelief in his tone.

Wonwoo just pulled the car into an empty spot along the bay, just far enough away from the residential area. Soonyoung knew what he was up to.

“I don’t know, we  _ could  _ go to the diner but you look pretty damn delicious yourself,” Wonwoo said, breathy as he moved in closer to Soonyoung. Soonyoung just laughed a chorus of  _ oh god Wonwoo  _ and  _ that’s so lame,  _ prompting Wonwoo to smile sweetly until the other finally accepted his kiss. As he let himself sink deeper into Wonwoo’s kisses, Soonyoung could have sworn he felt butterflies in his stomach.

-

Soonyoung tried to focus on the pleasure building up in his gut, twisting him up like a pretzel. He felt the tension in his nerves melt away as Wonwoo fucked him slowly, trying to get him used to the feeling. Wonwoo peppered the air around them with soft queries like “Is this okay?” and “Are you alright?” His incredibly deep voice and staggered breathing somehow sounding so much softer than Soonyoung had expected. Soonyoung attempted to muster nods in response to Wonwoo’s questions, but after the pair found their rhythm the soft whines and groans that escaped Soonyoung’s lips seemed to suffice.

Soonyoung tried, desperately, to chase his high along with Wonwoo, to seek the feeling the two expected to be the outcome of such a triste, but he was distracted. He was distracted by Wonwoo’s steady, deep breaths spilling out as he leaned over Soonyoung’s face, his gaze deep, dark and unwavering... sweet, even. The pair sharing moments of blissful laughter in between groans and moans as they moved against each other. 

He was even more distracted, though, by the way Wonwoo collapsed on top of him once he had found a comfortable pace. His hot, moist breath danced around his ear like smoke billowing out of a stack, filling the the room with a sort of sensual smog. Soonyoung could hear Wonwoo’s quiet, stifled whines and gasps as he thrust deeper into him, unable to tell if the sweat that drenched his chest was his or Wonwoo’s, perhaps a delightful cocktail of the two.

Despite these hindrances, Soonyoung snapped himself out of this sort of emotional eddy he had begun to drown in and began to focus once more on chasing his high. He reached down to stroke himself, forcing Wonwoo to shift his weight (God though, Soonyoung thought, how he loved the all-consuming feeling of being smothered by him) and meet Soonyoung’s gaze once again.

-

Wonwoo’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead of them, a resolute gaze that Soonyoung seemed to remember from moments now passed. He eyed the other man as he sat in the passenger seat, arm lolling out the open window of Wonwoo’s volvo. The radio was blaring; a song that Soonyoung didn’t know. A heavenly synth beat poured out of the car windows, being swept away by the cool Autumn wind.

_ Part of me is faking _

_ Faking it all just for fun _

_ Part of me is breaking _

_ Breaking apart when you come _

 

_ (Do you really want to?) _

_ I can't be the only one _

_ (Did he even notice?) _

_ Who can be the best to you, be the best to you _

“So,” Wonwoo’s voice snapped him out of his bleary synthpop daze, “What’s on your mind, Soon?” He responded without so much as a glance at Soonyoung, but Wonwoo had become adept at knowing when Soonyoung was scrutinizing him with his gaze. If Soonyoung’s vacant glare didn’t give it away, his uncharacteristic silence would have.

“Nothing,” Soonyoung asserts, albeit dubiously. He knows this will not convince Wonwoo, but he also knows that Wonwoo is tired of talking. Wonwoo is tired of Soonyoung’s ever-present need for validation, his constant anxious prattle over what they are, what they’re doing, where they’re going. Soonyoung’s ramblings, at this point, were more a monologue of his own insecurities and shortcomings than a dialogue between two people eager to work on their relationship. He figured that it made no difference if he was honest now, when talking to Wonwoo about  _ “us”  _ was like playing a game of racquetball. Only, he played it alone, and Wonwoo was the wall rather than his teammate.

Nevertheless, Wonwoo took his right hand off the wheel and offered it to Soonyoung. Things like this, Soonyoung thought, are what kept him here regardless of how many opportunities he had to leave and how many times he considered it. Whatever Wonwoo lacked in emotional maturity and openness he seemed to make up through incredibly small but sweet gestures of love. Soonyoung knew he loved Wonwoo, and Wonwoo loved him, but that didn’t matter. 

_ That doesn’t make our problems go away,  _ Soonyoung mused as he accepted Wonwoo’s soft yet sharp hand, kneading the pronounced joints of the other’s knuckles with his softer, rounder thumb.

-

Soonyoung wasn’t used to something so simple and intimate. The feeling of Wonwoo’s thumb on kneading gentle circles into his palm was something he hadn’t experienced… well, ever. He had held hands with people but he couldn’t remember a moment so sweet, so pure. Nothing that felt like this, that’s for sure.

Soonyoung wasn’t sure of many things. He knew he liked Wonwoo,  _ a lot.  _ He knew he could lock lips with him for eternities, sharing hungry, wet kisses, sloppily tasting every inch of his skin, tangling his fingers in his dark locks. He knew Wonwoo had the power to trigger something carnal within him. Soonyoung knew, for sure, that they could laugh and talk for hours, spending many a night at the diner post-hook up sipping on milkshakes and kicking each other’s shins. He knew that he could open up to Wonwoo about anything and he would never judge. He knew that they made amazing friends, and possibly even better sexual partners.

Soonyoung pondered all of this, flashing through the moments they had spent together for years now, as Wonwoo took hold of his other hand.  _ Shit,  _ Soonyoung thought. After all that they had shared with each other, he couldn’t figure out why something so harmless scared him so much. He had been, quite literally, laid bare before Wonwoo many a time before, yet he had never felt so utterly vulnerable as he did in this very moment: fully clothed, Edith Piaf’s gentle croon echoing from Wonwoo’s shitty old turntable, hand in hand with him.

The choice in music was a  _ move,  _ if there ever was one. Soonyoung was confident that Wonwoo was trying, no,  _ determined _ to capture his heart in this moment, and he could not for the life of him figure out why. Wasn’t what they shared enough? Short, casual sexual encounters, milkshakes at the diner, boisterous laughter over bong rips at parties, long talks late into the night that seemed no more intimate than the ones you’d have with your cousins as preteens… It all seemed to make perfect sense, Soonyoung thought. Why muddle up such perfect, clear waters with with a messy thing like romance?

Though the very rational, unemotional parts of Soonyoung’s mind raced with disapproving thoughts of Wonwoo’s current plan of attack, the racing beat of his heart said otherwise. He tried to drown out the painful rhythmic thuds in his chest with his much more prudent, sensible thoughts, but it was futile. His mind flashed to the moments during sex when he had let himself become much too lost in the moment, and to the moments after in which hands and bodies lingered just a bit too long for it to be considered truly casual. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead as the timeless, romantic voice of the french cabaret songstress filled the room.

_ Non, rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien _

_ Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal _

_ Jesus,  _ Soonyoung gulped to himself as Wonwoo’s hand moved upward to caress his cheek, ever so carefully, as though Soonyoung’s skin were a fine heirloom that must be preserved. Soonyoung’s rationale was begging him to back off, speak up, move away, do anything to stop the waters from muddying any further, but he couldn’t. He felt so utterly encapsulated by the moment, by the melodic music that pulled him in deeper, drowned him in the atmosphere Wonwoo had created. So carefully curated, so intimate, so poignant, Soonyoung could not help but notice. It felt so utterly… Wonwoo. That, alone, was enough to make him love it.

Wonwoo ran the soft back side of his hand across Soonyoung’s cheek, fingers ghosting his earlobe. It was so disgustingly intimate, but Soonyoung loved it. The moment had begun to feel like a dangerous game of chicken, the pair waiting to see who would be the one to close the distance between them, to surely solidify their status as  _ more than friends,  _ and  _ more than fuckbuddies.  _ Wonwoo was doing a goddamn good job of instigating, and Soonyoung knew he couldn’t hold out much longer as Wonwoo moved in.

Soonyoung made the decision to close the distance. He enticed Wonwoo with a kiss that was the perfect answer to the ambience of the moment he had created. Soonyoung’s lips danced upon Wonwoo’s in a closed kiss, the two still breathing in each other’s scents, moving against each other in a way that was, up until this moment, unbeknownst to either of them. The kiss was slow, soft, shallow at first.

Wonwoo took it upon himself to deepen the kiss, urging Soonyoung’s lips to part with the gentlest flicks of his tongue. Even though the kiss was deepened, the two stayed steady, pacing themselves. They sat and languidly explored each other’s mouths, hands roaming each other’s bodies, grazing ears and chins and hair. The kiss itself lasted mere seconds but managed to feel like an eternity.

The two finally pulled away, eyes opening to meet each other’s gaze. Wonwoo looked absolutely smitten, and Soonyoung had to take a moment to look down at himself and make sure it really was he, himself, whom Wonwoo had chosen to look upon in such away. Soonyoung was clearly flustered and Wonwoo reveled in his victory as he wrapped an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, pulling his head in to rest in the crook of his neck.

Soonyoung smiled, elated, breathing in Wonwoo’s sweet aroma. The pair of them sat on back on the couch, Wonwoo’s fingers just barely resting in Soonyoung’s thick tresses, his soft cheek tickling Wonwoo as he smiled widely to himself. They shared fleeting glances and soft pecks every so often between returning to their positions, melting into each other so softly and easily, sweet like caramel. Soonyoung realized he could do this forever.

-

Soonyoung had become accustomed to waking up next to Jeon Wonwoo, but waking up in his arms was something that was taking some getting used to. It didn’t help that on this particular occasion, Soonyoung was waking up from a nightmare. What it was about, he couldn’t remember, but he felt Wonwoo’s warm embrace leave him as he shot up in bed with a sharp yelp.

“Soon-ah,” Wonwoo quickly scrambled to sit upwards besides Soonyoung, “Are you okay?”

The second Soonyoung awoke, he noticed, Wonwoo’s fingertips had never ceased to cares his skin. Even though Soonyoung shot awake and broke out of Wonwoo’s arms, Wonwoo followed him up, fingertips still ghosting Soonyoung’s skin where he could, rubbing a reassuring pattern into the small of his back.

“I just,” Soonyoung stammered, out of breath for seemingly no reason, “I had a nightmare. I can’t even remember what it was.”

Wonwoo’s gentle touch persisted despite Soonyoung’s attempts to assert some sort of boundary through his body language. He had closed in on himself, hands nervously toying with the material of his own sweatshirt on opposite arms. He refused to meet Wonwoo’s gaze, turning away despite Wonwoo’s thin frame’s unwavering attempts to stay cradling his own.

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo said, trying to grab the other’s hand with his own despite his attempts to pull away and shut Wonwoo out.

“Soonyoung!” Wonwoo’s tone sharpened after Soonyoung’s attempts to distance himself. He grabbed Soonyoung’s shoulder with one hand, the other thumbing at his jawline and chin trying to turn the man to face him. As Soonyoung finally turned to face Wonwoo, the younger cupped his face in his hands and bore deep into his soul with his eyes, still dark, but this time just pleading for something more, for answers.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Wonwoo pleaded, voice cracking just a bit. That’s when Soonyoung burst into tears. Wonwoo kept his hands on Soonyoung’s face, his gaze refusing to leave the other’s. After a moment or so of Soonyoung trying to choke back sobs, Wonwoo just pulled him into a tight hug, caressing his hair and moving to lay back down in bed as Soonyoung followed, burying his head in his chest as he let small flows of tears consume his eyes.

Soonyoung finally looked up at Wonwoo, and he saw someone who was worried, hurt, and tired. Someone who was being destroyed by the feeling of not knowing. Someone who cared but could do nothing to help.

“Is it something I did?” Wonwoo asked, tears now beading in the corners of his own eyes.

“No, no, no,” Soonyoung responded frantically, tears now flooding his eyes even more. He wanted to disintegrate at the thought of Wonwoo worrying over him, the thought of Wonwoo thinking that he had done something to hurt him. If he thought he couldn’t hate himself anymore, Soonyoung had found a new form of self-hatred in the worried eyes of his best friend, struggling to figure out where he could have gone wrong.

“Then what is it? Why can’t you tell me?”

“I just…” Soonyoung dried his eyes only to feel the heat reach his cheeks once more, to feel the tears well up again with renewed fervor at what he was about to say.

“I just… I just love you, okay? I love you, and I shouldn’t. I don’t know what we’re doing but I know I shouldn’t feel this way, this strongly.”

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo said, in between quiet iterations of  _ shhh  _ and  _ it’s okay  _ and caressing Soonyoung’s face to blot his tears away with his thumb, “Why are you crying? Why is that bad?”

“It just… feels wrong. Why would you want to deal with that? I’m a burden. I’ve been down this road before.”

“I love you, too, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo said, pulling the other up by his underarms to draw his face in closer, “I want you to know that. I was your friend because I thought you wanted to be friends. And I have sex with you because I thought that was what you wanted.”

Soonyoung’s heart sinks with a thud, worrying about the refutation that seemed imminent in Wonwoo’s speech.

“I’m your friend. If you want me to be, I’m more. I love you too, just the same way you love me. I’m sure of that.”

“You’re not just saying that to get me to stop crying, are you?”

“Fuck no!” Wonwoo said, “I know you think I’m flaky and unsure but so are you. So I’m saying it now. I’m _ in _ love with you, Soonyoung. I want to be with you. Is that what you want?”

Soonyoung just nodded, burying his face into Wonwoo’s chest, planting kisses up his neck and onto his cheek.

“I’m going to be a good  _ boyfriend _ and make you some tea,” Wonwoo said, getting up and gently moving Soonyoung over onto the pillow beside him. He planted a soft kiss on Soonyoung’s head. The elder just watched him walk away, remnants of his tears still pooling on his cheeks and his heartbeat now slow and calm, a rhythmic thump akin to a perfect metronome.

-

Soonyoung was standing with Minghao as he waited for Wonwoo to return with ice cream, wondering how exactly he got himself into this situation. How did he end up at the boardwalk on a friday night, on an outing that could easily just be chalked up to a night out with friends, his nerves fraught with innumerable questions? Was this a date? Why did Wonwoo offer to  _ buy  _ him ice cream? What the fuck did that mean? As he felt the anxiety consuming his every nerve he turned to see his friend’s smug expression and he remembered how, exactly, he ended up in such a predicament.

“Jun really wants to go to the boardwalk tonight,” Minghao had complained to Soonyoung as they lounged about his apartment.

“What, Minghao? You didn’t realize that having a boyfriend meant you would have to leave the house? You know, go on dates?” Soonyoung retorted, tone thick with sarcasm.

Minghao just buried his face deeper into the pillow as he lay sprawled out on Soonyoung’s futon.

“You should come with us,” Minghao said, looking up as Soonyoung sat down next to him.

“You guys are going on a date. I don’t want to come along just to third-wheel, Hao.”

“Well then why don’t you find someone to bring with? How about Wonwoo?”

Soonyoung’s stomach turned. He had not seen Wonwoo since last Wednesday, when they hooked up.

“What do you  _ mean,  _ ‘How about Wonwoo?’” Soonyoung said, his defenses clearly up.

“Oh, come on,” Minghao groaned, finally sitting up, “You guys hooked up at that party a few weeks ago! Invite him out, asshole! Haven’t you had a crush on him since high school?”

“Yeah, but we’re just hooking up. That’s it… I think...” Soonyoung’s posture was visually droopy, his shoulders slouched and his hands hanging unceremoniously as he rested his arms on his knees.

“Soonyoung,” Minghao leaned gently into Soonyoung’s slouchy posture and wrapped one of his long arms reassuringly around his forlorn looking shoulders. His arm reached so far around Soonyoung’s comparably tiny frame that he could rub his elbow with his hand.

“You owe yourself something good, man. That’s all I’m gonna say. Just invite him out this once and see how it goes.”

Minghao rose from the futon with a yawn and a stretch of his gangly limbs, leaving toward the kitchen to grab a snack. He eyed Soonyoung with much scrutiny as he left the room, his gaze telling him to  _ sack the fuck up already and do something about it,  _ in typical Minghao fashion.

So, Soonyoung did. He texted Wonwoo and asked him to come to the boardwalk tonight with a  _ Hao is dragging me along and him and Jun will be all over each other and it’s gross so I just want to bring a friend along you know I hate feeling like a third wheel  _ and amid a flood of frantic rambly one-sentence texts, Wonwoo just responded with a  _ Sure :) What time? _

And now, here they were. Soonyoung was on a double date (he thinks?) with his biweekly booty call/best friend since childhood and he could not for the everloving fuck of it figure out what any of this meant.

“Just relax,” Minghao reassured him, smug smile refusing to leave his face. He giggled the high pitched giggle he only seems to reserve for moments like these, when he gets to watch a friend of his like Soonyoung just absolutely lose his shit over his nerves.

Soonyoung tried to hold it together when he saw Wonwoo and Jun returning from the ice cream stand. Wonwoo handed Soonyoung his rainbow sherbet with a sweet smile thrown his way as well. The quartet enjoyed their ice cream while they caught up and discussed their plans for the upcoming school year. Wonwoo shot Soonyoung a look of approval as he admitted he had decided to declare a major in Japanese literature.

After that conversation began to feel mundane Jun suggested that they head to the arcade. Wonwoo expressed his excitement at the thought of playing  _ Dance Dance Revolution  _ as he nudged Soonyoung. At this point, Soonyoung was exhausted of letting his nerves get the better of him, so he decided to just let himself loosen up and attempt to have fun, the worry clouding his brain growing more distant with each endearing look Wonwoo flashed in his direction.

The quartet broke up when they entered the arcade since Jun wanted to play skeeball. Wonwoo lead Soonyoung in the direction of the  _ DDR  _ machine, grabbing his hand with the excitement of a small child. Soonyoung visibly flushed at this but he hoped that the the colorful orange tinted glare of the arcade lights served to hide this from Wonwoo.

“Remember in high school when you used to dance?” Wonwoo asked, excitedly. Soonyoung thought he saw a glint of who he was in high school in his eyes.

“I miss that,” he finished as he climbed up onto the game platform.

“Me too,” Soonyoung admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you were into literature?” Wonwoo asked, leaning down to insert a couple of quarters into the coin slot.

“I don’t know… I took Japanese high school and I then I took a Japanese Lit class senior year just for shits and giggles… I ended up really enjoying a lot of the books we read and I just decided to pursue it.”

“I’ve been reading a lot of Murakami lately,” Wonwoo mused, eyes rolling upwards toward the ceiling before shooting back toward Soonyoung with that always enticing flirty gaze of his.

“I guess I didn’t realize that we hadn’t talked in so long… I guess I’ll just have to get to know you again.”

Soonyoung just gulped nervously and mustered up a smile and a nod. He was a tad bit afraid of getting to know Wonwoo, as he had felt getting to  _ really  _ know anyone he had sex with had never worked for him out in the past. Instead of fixating that thought, he brushed it off and moved toward the screen to choose a song for them.

Soonyoung selected a timeless classic in  _ Everytime We Touch  _ by Cascada, to which he unsurprisingly got a perfect score (it had been years since he’d played but Soonyoung’s muscle memory was pretty good, being that he’d spent the latter half of his life dancing as a hobby). Wonwoo tried his best to keep up but fell behind more often than not, much to Soonyoung’s chagrin. The only song Wonwoo beat Soonyoung at was Hungry Like The Wolf, which Wonwoo attributed to his claim that  _ the 80s new wave beats just run right through my veins, man. _

“Remind me to never challenge you to DDR again,” Wonwoo laughed as he tiredly stumbled off of the platform to meet Soonyoung. The two headed back toward the front of the arcade facing the boardwalk. Soonyoung eventually noticed that Wonwoo’s hand was on the small of his back. He glanced up at him nervously to find a look of pure adoration written all over Wonwoo’s face. Soonyoung felt his ears scorch as Wonwoo leaned in to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. Soonyoung’s hand instinctively shot up to the area that Wonwoo’s lips had just touched.

When Soonyoung saw Wonwoo’s satisfied smirk under the neon lights that night, he knew he was already in much too deep.

\-----------------------

It was times like these that Soonyoung would sit and imagine the sight of Wonwoo showing up on his doorstep, teary-eyed, heart heavy and weighed down with remorse and the realization that he had royally fucked up. These fantasies are not founded in truth, however, and Soonyoung is left to loll on the couch alone. His limbs are fraught with emotional atrophy. His eyes are swollen and tear-stained despite the fact that he could not remember the last time he cried or why. He was walking around with the feeling that gravity was pulling his eyelids further down every second. He was struggling to keep them open and stay engaged in the life he felt he had not lived in so long.

Soonyoung had struggled with depression before. At this point in his life, he is used to living with it and even knows how to manage it somewhat well. This, however, is not your run of the mill depressive episode. This is heartbreak, a raw and gaping wound buried deep within the soul with no successful remedy yet known to man. 

Jun and Minghao were trying to patch it up, of course, like the great friends they were. They had taken Soonyoung out, brought him takeout and ice cream when he was too distraught to leave his room. They did whatever he needed whenever they could, but it had yet to make any real improvement in Soonyoung’s morale. 

On one particularly sour day, Junhui had made Soonyoung tea, the way Wonwoo used to do when he was down. He just sat with him on the futon, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders. Soonyoung looked broken, and he didn’t have to vocalize his thoughts for Junhui to know exactly what he was thinking.

“I know what you’re doing to yourself, Soonyoung, but you can’t,” he wrapped an arm around his friend, readjusting the blanket on his shoulder to try and swaddle him a bit more.

“You can’t do this again.”

Soonyoung refused to face his friend as a few tears just dribbled down his cheeks and onto the blanket swathing his frame.

“When you love someone, you only want to see the best in them. You don’t care about their flaws. You don’t care if they can’t handle your emotions. When someone you love that much leaves you, you only remember the good times. That’s all that really exists to you…”

“I love that you’re a positive person, Soonie,” Jun pulled Soonyoung’s head closer to rest on his shoulder, “but I’m just tired of seeing you get hurt. Other people have flaws, too. Not just you. You’re going to have to learn to see them both.”

Soonyoung just nodded through his sniffles, refusing to make eye contact with his friend, irresolute as ever.

He was still living his life. He went to class and work when he could, but he was calling out more than usual. He is taking everything a day, or even a moment at a time when he could, but that method only served to make his days feel longer and lonelier.

So, on any day like this, Soonyoung sits on his couch and listens to music. An ambient acoustic dirge echoes from his speaker in the kitchen, buffering somewhat rhythmically every couple songs because Soonyoung just felt too down to get up and move the speaker within range of his phone, at least for now. 

_ What if one day I don’t know you? _

_ What if one day you leave? _

_ And all confused desire and time zone changes _

_ Change what’s left of you and me? _

He knows that Wonwoo is still here, but he finds himself trapped by thoughts that one day, he would up and move far away and never see Wonwoo again. Soonyoung knows he does not want it to end this way, but he feels suffocated by his own insecurities. He feels as though he was drowning in his own self-loathing, and he knew it was time to really do something about it this time.

Soonyoung was thinking, maybe, he finally would this time. What a shame it seems that Wonwoo and his relationship would not live to see this moment.

So, feeling defeated and despondent, Soonyoung just drifts into a nap, dreaming the same dream he always seems to, the one where Wonwoo shows up at his door.

-

Soonyoung is eventually startled awake by a familiar rapping on the door, and he is too dazed to tell if it is a part of his dream or reality. He pushes his dreams and nightmares out of his head and tries to rouse himself awake enough to answer the door. He assumes it’s probably Jun or Minghao coming to check in on him, since he hasn’t seen either of them much this week.

Soonyoung is not prepared when he opens the door to a disheveled, fraught-faced Wonwoo. Soonyoung tried to hold back the tears he can feel welling up from deep down, watching Wonwoo attempt to do the same.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo chokes out, “Soonyoung, I’m so sorry,” and Soonyoung can’t be sure this is real as he dries and rubs his eyes in the same motion. He decides that there is only one way to be sure that this  _ is  _ Wonwoo in front of him, and not some mirage induced by so many days wandering the vast desert in his head.

Soonyoung lunges forward into Wonwoo’s open arms. He takes in his scent, fully feeling the soft catch of his sweater on his fingernails and everything else he can grasp with his senses. He feels snowflakes land on his bare arms. The cold air is numbing but Soonyoung just buries his red nose into the warmth of Wonwoo’s chest and inhales. 

“ _ I’m _ sorry,” Soonyoung exhales, Wonwoo’s grip on him strengthening even more with the declaration.

As Soonyoung was holding Wonwoo in his arms, he could feel all the things that made them fall apart melt away, only left to find purchase in all of the magical moments they had shared. None of the bad stuff is important. Soonyoung has memories like this of many others from his past, but the way his and Wonwoo’s little supercut flashed behind his eyes was different. This time, he has a feeling that their story is not over yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me wanted to end this on a more open-ended note, in keeping with the song, but I can't write soonwoo without a happy ending or I WILL DIE. So there.  
> Hit me up @soonuwus on twitter and before to check out the other Lordeventeen fics! Thank you for reading!!


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